Lost Roads (Benny Imura 7)

Morton dropped to his knees, clamping a trembling hand to his torn shoulder, weeping, pleading, begging for help. He had smaller bites on his face and neck and even his scalp, and his eyes were feverish and jumpy with blood loss and shock.

As they all variously knelt or stood around him, Gutsy felt such a deep conflict tearing her up inside. On one hand, this was the man who’d carried out Collins’s orders to infect Mama with a deadly disease. This same man was responsible for half the bodies buried in Hope Cemetery. By any measurement he was a monster, a hateful and callous murderer. He was evil.

At the same time, though, he was powerless. His strength and his ability to do any additional harm had been bitten away. Even if there were a doctor left in town who could operate on him and repair the damage to nerve and vein and muscle, Morton was doomed—and he knew it.

Captain Ledger crouched in front of Morton, forearms resting on his knees. “Well, ain’t you a sight, Doc. This is a case of irony literally biting you. If we didn’t need you, this would be funny.”

Morton whimpered.

Ledger used his knife to cut some cloth from Morton’s lab coat, then folded it and pressed it to the man’s shoulder. “Hold it in place, Doc; you know the drill. It’s not that bad. None of these bites are. No major veins or arteries. Bet it hurts, though, and later I’ll find some time to get all weepy about that.”

“Hey, guys,” called Spider, who had knelt by the dead guard, “this is weird. Danny’s been stabbed. There’s not a single bite on him.”

“He’s right,” said Sam.

“Well, ain’t this a pickle, Doc?” murmured Ledger. “Looks like somebody knifed Danny and then sicced him on you. Isn’t that interesting as all heck? Tell me—did Bess Collins come to pay you a social call?”

“B-Bess… ?” stammered Morton, confused. “How c-could she? She’s locked up. N-no… it wasn’t her.”

Ledger frowned. “Who did it, then?”

“I don’t know. Two strangers. Teenagers, I think.” Morton hissed as pain shot through him. “They wore hats and had cloths over their mouths.”

Ledger studied him. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

“Collins must have more of her goons in town,” suggested Benny. “She must have sent them.”

Ledger tapped Morton’s chest. “You got something to say about that?”

“How would I know?” whined Morton. “They didn’t exactly come here to make speeches. They had knives, they… they killed that guard and knocked me down. I… I must have blacked out for a few seconds. I woke up when he—it—attacked me.” Tears ran down his cheeks, turning pink as they passed through smears of blood. Morton shook his head. “It all happened so fast. I didn’t even see them leave. They were strangers. I never saw them before.”

Gutsy came over and squatted down next to Ledger. “How many people does Collins still have in town? Who else is part of all this?”

Morton licked his lips, then winced as he tasted blood. “I don’t know. Some. I never wanted to know names. They’re just… just…” He didn’t finish the sentence, clearly uncertain how to make it sound as bad as it probably was. “Please… help me.”

“If you want help, Doc,” said Ledger casually, “you have to earn it. Tell me why Collins wanted you dead.”

“I don’t know,” he wailed, but when Ledger only smiled and made no move to get help, the doctor drew a breath, and in a more controlled—though bitter—voice, said, “From the way you’re talking, it’s clear Bess got away. If so… then maybe this was her cleaning up loose ends. Maybe she was mad because I talked to you. She has to know that I would. I won’t take the fall for her or anyone. Not after what she made me do. Not after what happened to the town. I’m not a monster.”

“Yes, you are,” said Gutsy coldly. “You killed my mother.”

Morton could not look at her. “I did what Bess made me do. You can’t say no to her. Not her. You have no idea what she’s really like. She’s more terrifying than anything out there. What choice did I have? I… I… oh God, it’s all falling apart. Look at me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Ledger. “Look at you. Can’t begin to tell you how eaten up with sympathy I am. Oops—‘eaten up.’ Sorry, unintentional pun. Funny, though.”

“Please…”

“If Collins was cleaning up loose ends, then that means she was afraid of something you might tell us,” said Ledger, “and I find that real darn interesting. Now, we got a couple ways we can play this, Doc. I figure you have about six, seven hours of what we can both agree will be screaming agony. Then you make that very interesting transition to being what my friends in California like to call a ‘zom.’ Then, you have all the time in the world to wander around going bitey-bitey. Personally, I think it would be fun to lock you up in a cell and keep you as a pet. Would you like that, Doc? New Alamo’s zombie mascot. Truth to tell, there would be a bit of justice in it.”

Spider made a sick sound, but Ledger pretended not to hear.

“Help me, for God’s sake,” wheezed Morton.

“Why don’t you help us?”

Morton’s eyes seemed to sharpen at that. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” said Ledger, “as I understand it, you infected Karen’s daughter, Sarah, which is some evil stuff right there. Makes me want to do very bad things to you while you’re still alive to feel them. No, don’t you dare look away. You look me in the eye when I’m talking to you.”